It is a funny thing, this paradox called stardom, this oddity of celebrity. It gives so much, yet it also takes away.
And Robin McLaurin Williams was definitely a true celebrity. His was a star that burned bright and strong, and while it illuminated the lives of those close to him and those who has come to know him through his work on the screens, it burnt him. Alcoholism, drug abuse, the usual malaise that seems to afflict the rich and famous. In the end, and this is indeed the end, 11 August 2014, it was depression that put out the embers of his life. He was 63.
I am one of those people who care not for celebrities. I don't queue up for a chance to get a photo and an autograph from a famous person. I shy away from events where the main draw is the attendance of some who and who. And it is rare for any of their passing to have an impact on me.
This, I have to admit, is one of those rare times.
I have always been quick on recognising the duality of nature and my fellow humankind. How something that is nurturing can also kill. And Mr. Williams, to me at least, embodies the very essence of duality.
He of the comedy royalty, and yet won an Oscar for his dramatic performance in Good Will Hunting, and when it suits him (and he always has a way of making it suit him) a union of both, with dramadies such as World's Greatest Dad.
He of those sad glass eyes, which he could never truly hide despite his rapid fire jokes or his manic energy. How a heart wrenching monologue on art, war, women, love and loss can end with a sad smile behind his scraggly beard (again, see Good Will Hunting).
And through his filmography, this duality was most obvious. There are many of his films which I have came to love and grow up with, and yet there were also many more that I have thumbed my nose up against.
Movies like Flubber, Old Dogs, License to Wed, The Big Wedding, RV, Night at The Museum, were, in my humble opinion, straight to video bins sort of movies which just proves that even the greats have flaws.
But oh did he shine in his other films. When the script doesn't call for him to be silly or ridiculous, when he is given freedom to reign in his trademark energy and to focus on the heart of the story and his character, his was a performance that was peerless.
Although people might recognise his more popular works like Jumanji, the inimitable Mrs. Doubtfire, Bicentennial Man, Good Will Hunting, Dead Poet Society, some of his best roles have been in films that have considerably less mass commercial appeal.
Films such as Awakenings, where he played a doctor who helped catatonic patients (one of the patients played by the great Robet Deniro, himself a recent sufferer of mediocre trash like the Meet The Parents franchise), the aforementioned World Greatest Dad, where a father lies about the circumstances of his son's death, and House of D, where he played a mentally challenged janitor to a young Anton Yeltsin, proved his dramatic chops. He even gave chilling performances in films like One Hour Photo and Insomnia, the former as a too close for comfort photo technician, the other a killer on the run.
Heck, he even stole the scene from the entire cast of Friends AND his good friend, Billy Crystal in a short five minute cameo on the sitcom.
It is too often used, this compliment, but Robin Williams was one of the rare ones who can make you laugh till you cry (see his 2002 performance in Robin Williams: Live On Broadway), and can make you laugh while at the very same time make you cry.
There is a more personal side of this tribute, and I have not said this to anyone until today, but he also reminded me of my late grandmother. His kind eyes and his matronly jawline. His ever ready and almost seemingly toothless smile. Not that my grand mum ever made dick jokes or had a beard like a hobo, but they shared the same sincerity and honest genuine soul.
It is a funny thing, this eventuality called death. Thousands die everyday, and yet, only a few seems to leave an impact. An absence when in the past there was presence.Robin Williams e may not know me, but his passing grieves me as I am sure it grieves others, and the manner of his passing (if what has been reported is true) makes it worse to think that someone who made people laugh, weeps into his hands behind closed doors. I still find it difficult to accept, that whenever I go to a website that has a profile of Robin Williams, there is now a "dash" after his name, and a year after that dash.
Whatever demons he was fighting, I pray that he has finally beaten them to the punchline.
Now, there is nothing left to do, but to mourn his passing by re-watching his best films, and let him cheer you up even after his death.
It is a funny thing, the life and death of this clown prince named Robin Williams. It is funny, and it is also sad.
